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JhE y^RGUS 



Hannibal’S Man. 


BY LEONARD KIP. 

n 



THE ARGUS COMPANY, PRINTERS. 


1873. 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
THE ARGUS COMPANY, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



f OW that the earliest buds and blossoms of 
Spring are peeping stealthily above the more 
protected borders of the glacier, or from certain 
sheltered nooks of the surrounding snow-crowned 
slopes, it is one of my chiefest pleasures to wander 
forth and gather them as precious trophies, for the 
adornment of our mountain-cabin. This I do, not 
loving flowers for themselves. In my own land, the 
sweetest rose-buds, in the most romantic woodland 
nooks, would be passed by me unnoticed. But here, 
in the Alpine fastnesses, where for so many months 
the land lays fettered with snow and ice, and even 
chance passengers do not often journey by, those 
flowers are to me a type of coming Spring, — a joy, 
in that they speak of partial release from hyperbo- 
rean bondage, — a memento of the softer climate of 
my own far-off country ; and as such I value them, 
apart from any sentiment connected with their own 
mere intrinsic beauty. 

Why then, since all the while my heart thus 
remains fixed upon the congenial memories of my 
native home, do I linger in this land of wintry 
captivity and cheerlessness? It is very easy to 
explain, indeed, why at the first I took refuge in such 


4 


Ha]:^nibal''s Man. 


a lonely region. Disappointment in certain cher- 
ished hopes, — chagrin about baffled ambitions, — the 
inevitable sadness engendered through failure in a 
friendship where most securely I had learned to 
trust, — these several influences combined to create 
in me a temporary dislike of all the world, its society, 
restraints, and interests, and thereby drove me away 
to these Alpine wilds, where, more completely than 
elsewhere, I thought that I might avoid encounter with 
mankind. And yet, now that at last the morbid in- 
fluence has left me, and once more I learn to pine after 
the pleasures and pursuits of the outer world, why do I 
linger longer in this enforced seclusion and only from 
the mountain heights gaze longingly into the sunny 
valleys through which so easily I might journey to 
my home ? Surely I do not love the mountains. 
Their unchanging outlines weary me, — their passing 
lights and shades afford me no variety, — their wintry 
blasts enfeeble me, — their rude, uncouth inhabitants 
repel me. In the whole range of snow-crowned 
peaks I can gather no kindling of romance to inspire 
me with the least enthusiasm ; — for me the dearest 
place on earth must ever be my little dingy home in 
the narrowest of all streets in Heidelberg. Yet here, 
in this tempestuous spot, I have remained the Winter 
through ; and at last it has been impressed upon me 
with the certainty of fate, that I shall never leave 
the Alps again. 

There is one prevailing reason for it all. Before 
I had remained many weeks in this uncongenial 
district, and while the freshness of the life of perfect 
isolation was still most powerful with me, I had 


Hannibal's Ma^. 


5 


chanced to see and at once had loved Ursula. She 
was a simple Alpine maiden of sixteen, — herself an 
orphan, brought up in kindly, loving charity 
within the neighboring convent, and thereby natu- 
rally remaining almost a stranger to the outer world, 
—knowing, indeed, no other home than that of the 
circumscribing convent walls. I loved her, at the 
first meeting with her, for the soul-lit beauty of her 
face and the unapproachable graces of her lithe 
figure ; and she, childlike and trusting, loved me in 
return, inasmuch as she had learned to look upon me 
as marked with something different from the gross 
boorishness around her. Therefore, while yet the 
world remained distasteful to me, I had yielded to the 
impulse of my sudden love for her, and led her away, 
as my precious bride, to that little cabin set apart 
upon the mountain-side. 

There we have lived in happy freedom from all 
outward intrusion ; but now that there has come 
again to me a yearning for the past and its familiar 
scenes, it is mingled with a strange dread of making 
the attempt to realize them. For how may I dare 
to hope that Ursula can ever adapt herself to that 
other and more artificial life, of which, as yet, she 
has never even read ? And how% — more especially, 
I ponder, — can I venture, with due regard for my 
own peace of mind, to lead her into that outer world, 
where she would see other men, between whom and 
myself, so easily she could make comparison unfavor- 
able to me ? For, in my heart there is an exceeding 
jealous nature, which I never can subdue. I know 

that she has chosen me because I am different in her 
1 * 


6 


Hannibal* s Man. 


eyes from any of the rough, uncouth people around 
her. And yet I am not of stalwart form or of pre- 
possessing mien. Much delving over hidden roots 
of dead languages has taken from me all possible 
graces of the body. I know that, in a different 
land, she could not fail to see many men whom, for 
their appearance, she would naturally prefer to me. 
While I reside upon the Alpine slope, apart from 
others of our race, I can remain to her ignorant, 
untutored eyes a god ; but among different men, 
how can I answer for it that her simple, childlike 
nature, thinking no harm, but merely influenced by her 
instinctive love for the grand and beautiful, might 
not become warped from its true regard for me? 
Better a life-long seclusion, indeed, than that this 
should happen. And so, while thinking upon my 
own country, with a longing that knows no rest, 
month after month, I And myself lingering among 
the sterile mountains. And telling Ursula that the 
world outside is very cruel, and, if possible, more 
forbidding even than among the avalanches, I press 
her close to my heart and glory in the pleasant 
deception which I feel would retain me ever constant 
in her sweet affection. 



“ And now, thinking only of our mutual love and 
letting the outer world pass by, unheeded, we will 
ivaiider forth once more,” I said to her this morning, 
“and search for early flowers. Last week, indeed, 
we looked in vain ; but since then the sun has shone 


Hannibal' s Man. 


/ 


out warmly, and already I see signs that the buds 
are sprouting below, against the glacier banks.” 

“Why should we go to-day?” she hesitatingly 
rejoined. “For listen how the convent-chapel bells 
are even now warning me.” 

“ I hear the bells, far down the Pass, tolling a 
requiem,” I said. “ It is the requiem of the chamois 
hunter who was killed two days ago. But how can 
that affect yourself ? ” 

“ I know not, except that these things always seem 
to influence my lot, however they may seem to apply 
to others,” she respond^ed, a shiver of apprehension 
passing over her frame. “Do you not know that I 
am the convent’s child, and under its protection ? 
And so whenever I am about to encounter peril, a 
kindly warning is sounded out to me from the bells. 
While, if it is a coming joy, so do the bells announce 
that, as well. Doubtless the bells are now ringing 
for the slain chamois hunter ; but if it was not also 
meant as a warning to myself, I should not now be able 
to hear them. The wind would carry the sound the 
other way, or it would be deadened to my ears. But 
listen now to the dirge, how close it sounds, even as 
though the bells were just outside ! ” 

“ It is a foolish fancy, Ursula,” I said ; “ and one 
that would not now come to you, but for long con- 
fin^v.^.ent in the house. The purer air abroad will 
dissipate such vagaries. Come, — let us depart ; for 
I know that since we were last at the Glacier, fresh 
flowers have been born to greet and cheer us.” 

It was as I had supposed. Ere long, in a little 
recess where the rocks receded from the icy abra- 


8 


Hannibal's Man. 


sion, I found a tuft or two of grass amid thin layers 
of fast dissolving snow-wreaths; and in the center of 
all, a clump of pale lilly-shaped crocuses. I severed 
them carefully from the ground and first twined 
three or four in Ursula’s thick tresses. Then hold- 
ing the others in my hand for the decoration of our 
cabin, I turned with her upon the homeward path. 
Yet before departing, feeling moved by some indefin- 
able curiosity, I approached the edge of the great 
Glacier and gazed down upon it. 

The vast icy sea here and there was cracked and 
broken — roughened in wide portions as though, at 
one time, watery waves had been raised upon it b}^ 
the wind, and frozen by instantaneous blast ; and 
throughout its greatest extent, was covered with 
sheets of snow, laying many feet deep upon it. In 
certain spots, however, the snow had either blown 
or melted away, and in other places the surface of 
the ice had liquified and again been frozen with 
glassy smoothness. This happened to have been the 
case just where now I stood; and I could look down 
many inches into the clear, unruffled depths of the ice, 
almost with the same ease and distinctness with 
which one can gaze into a quiet pool belonging to a 
running spring. 

“See, Ursula !” I said, after a moment, and point- 
ing downward. “ A log.” 

It lay, apparently, two feet below the surface of 
the ice, indistinct and shadowy in form, but evidently 
a log. What else, indeed, could it be ? 

“Yes, — a log,” remarked Ursula. “ Can it have 
been there very long do you think ?” 


Hannibal's Man. 


9 


“Who knows? For centuries, perhaps,” I said. 
And then, a little proud, it may he, of my power to 
instruct, I told her all I knew about the theory of 
the glacial formations. How that this same river 
of ice had been forming from above for many gen- 
erations and working downward upon its rocky bed, 
at the rate of a few inches every year, until at last it 
would decompose and melt away into the valley 
below. How that it had the faculty of grasping and 
concealing within its icy embrace, more securely than 
within miser’s chest, whatever might cross its path ; 
but how that after long periods, it might even be 
after many centuries, it was always forced to release 
its prey, which, from the melting of the surface of 
the ice and possibly from some inherent power of 
self-extrication, would gradually work up into the 
outer air and become forever free. How that this 
same log, imprisoned for so long, was now doubtless 
upon the point of attaining its release, and in a few 
months would float away on mountain stream, down 
to the sea itself. 

“ And we will watch it in its efforts after freedom, 
my love,” I said, as we returned to our home. “ It 
will be a pleasant pastime for us during the passage 
of the Summer.” 

A very little thing, indeed, for me to interest 
myself about, after my enlarged communications of 
the past with the outer world. And why, in fact, 
do I not only ponder long upon it after our return, 
but even write down the whole circumstance in 
exact detail ? Hardly do I know, — or even whether 
it is one or several causes that impel me. It may be 


Hannibal's Man. 


]0 


that I give heed to such a trifle simply because there 
is no other way to occupy my time. It may be that 
through want of proper exercise for it, my mind is 
already losing its proper tone and attuning itself to 
trivial things. And it may be, after all, that 1 am 
influenced by the desire to make true record of 
Ursula’s superstitious fancies at the moment when 
her very words are still fresh in mv memory ; so 
that hereafter reading them, and acknowledging that 
no misfortune has come to her, she will learn to dis- 
possess herself forever of such vagaries. It is not 
pleasant to see her sitting beside the fire, her head 
buried reflectively between her hands, and her whole 
attitude that of one moodily brooding over a mys- 
tery. Rather should she learn to laugh merrily at 
the whole conception of a warning from the con- 
vent bells. 



A week has slowly passed away ; and this 
morning we have repaired once more to the Glacier. 
When there before, I carefully marked the position 
of the log ; and from my close measurements, I now 
find that the whole body of ice has moved one inch 
along the bank. This, of itself, would make little 
change. But meanwhile the sun has been hot, and 
the sloping of the surface of the ice from the center 
of the Glacier has allowed the melted portions to 
run ofi*, and I can now see clearly that the log has 
been brought much nearer to the surface than before, 
so that I can inspect it with increasing distinctness 
of observation. And I now find that, though a log, 


Hannibal's Man 


11 


it bears something of the shape of a man ; a bi*anch, 
or that which might be a branch, being projected 
from the side like to an extended arm. 

“ And of course it must gather in interest for us, 
Ursula,” 1 remarked, as I pointed out to her this 
fact. “ For now we can plainly see that the log has 
some attempt at rude carving. In truth, I have 
little doubt that it is an old-world representative of 
a heathen god, — most probably a statue of Odin 
himself. Once honored as an idol, this log must 
have, been accidentally thrown into some abyss, to 
become, after many centuries, a study for our pro- 
fane gaze.” 

To Ursula, the theory seems to bring little inter- 
est. How could it be expected, when in all proba- 
bility she has never even heard of Odin ? But with 
myself, it fills the mind with strange speculation. 
Can it be that, after all, this apparently profitless 
existence in the Alps is destined to make me famous 
as the discoverer of a rare relic of an ancient race ? 



Again an interval of a week, and once more we 
have visited the spot. And now I find that I must 
alter my previous conjecture. All this while I see 
that the supposed idol has been gradually approach- 
ing the surface still nearer ; and now that I can 
examine it more closely, I can detect that it is no 
mere rude carving of a savage age. A charming 
bronze statue, rather, of the highest type of art, so 
natural is it in its proportions and attitude. A 


12 


Hannibal’s Man. 


representation of a warrior in helmet, breastplate 
and sandals, with shield upon his arm and short 
sword at his side. One leg is thrown a little in 
advance of the other, and the shield is raised so as 
partially to cover the head ; yet, not sufficiently to 
conceal a portion of the rear adornment of the hel- 
met crest. Looking upon all this, for many minutes, 
I gazed in almost speechless admiration. 

“A wonderful discovery ! ” I broke forth at last. 
“And who can tell how valuable ? To the archaeolo- 
gist, a revelation, — to the artist, an inspiration from 
the past, — to us, looking upon the matter in its less 
romantic aspect, a possible fortune. Of the age of 
Augustus, it may be, — or earlier, even. And how 
came it here? For how many centuries may it not 
have been imbedded in this solid ice ? Ursula, in 
another fortnight, at the most, we can obtain pos- 
session of our prize. Until then, let us subdue our 
impatience, and watch to see that no one may spirit 
it from us.” 

And, in order that no possible precaution may be 
neglected, I have sprinkled snow lightly over the 
spot, lest any other person passing, — an improbable 
circumstance, indeed, — may look down into the clear 
ice and claim my prize. Each day, during the 
coming fortnight, will I sally forth to watch for 
indications of intrusion. Yet all the while will I 
struggle to subdue my own impatience, and not look 
too prematurely upon the statue; preferring to wait 
until the elements may deliver it up to me, and then 
to enjoy, in sudden and complete fruition, the sense 
of its artistic loveliness. 


Hannibal^ s Man, 


13 


Now let me strive to regulate my thoughts aright, 
to the end that I may set down everything in due 
sequence and in order, without confusion or exaggera- 
tion, and thereby, hereafter reading it with more 
collected brain, perhaps, may know that it was not 
a dream. 

This morning the fortnight of probation that I 
had allotted to myself came to an end, and I could 
control myself no longer. Taking a shovel and 
pickax in either hand, and accompanied by Ursula, 
I proceeded to the spot where lay my treasure, 
gazed carefully around to see- that even at that last 
moment there was no danger of intrusion, and then, 
hurriedly and with nervous hand, brushed away the 
light covering of snow. 

The warm sun of the advancing Summer had 
well done its work. The statue was now within a 
few inches of the surface, and a portion of the up- 
stretched shield had even begun to obtrude slightly 
into the outer air. The covering of ice was now 
soft and brittle. Even the pick was scarcely neces- 
sary for its removal. Carefully scraping around 
with the shovel, I succeeded in removing most of 
the incumbent weight of ice ; and at length, to my 
inconceivable satisfaction, the whole statue lay 
expose! to view. 

I lifted it a few inches from the ice, to assure 
myself that all was clear and disconnected beneath, 
and then gently let it fall into place again. I could 
not but notice that it was scarcely as heavy as it 
ought to be, for a work of solid bronze ; and yet, for 
the moment, I suffered my mind to dwell only 
2 


14 


Hannibal’s Man. 


slightly upon that circumstance. The rather did I 
ponder upon the position and attitude of the statue. 
It lay, — as I have already said, — with one leg ad- 
vanced and the shield raised as though to cover the 
head. A striking pose, indeed ; and yet there was 
something in it, that, from the first, instinctively 
confounded me. Then, after a moment, I saw that 
this arose from the attitude of the statue being such 
that, if placed upon its feet, it could not sustain 
itself without external siipport,^ — the center of grav- 
ity being too far forward and the feet themselves 
not adjusted upon the same level. Moreover, there 
were no appearances of outward fastenings, whereby 
it might possibly have been designed to rest against 
a column behind. Apart from these mysterious 
defects, it struck me as a marvelous work of art ; 
the muscles of arm and leg being admirably defined, 
and the torso, wherever the termination of the ar- 
mor allowed its display, being a wonder of correctly 
defined anatomy. 

“ What think you of it, yourself, Ursula ? ” I 
inquired, turning towards her. Her gaze was fast- 
ened, as mine had been, upon the statue; and I 
looked to see signs of admiration in her expression. 
But all at once I noticed that she turned pale, a 
startled gleam of terror shot across her face, she 
gave a broken scream and fell nearly fainting into 
my arms. ^ 

“ Did you not see ? ” she gasped, partially recov- 
ering herself. “ Look ! The statue has moved ! 
It moved while I was looking at it ! ” 

I turned again, ready to smile at her fears, and 


Hannibal’s Man. 


J5 


deeming her apparent impulse of imagination only a 
new test of the artistic excellence of the statue, 
thus enabling her to deceive her own eyes with the 
contemplation of its life-like truthfulness. But I 
myself almost gasped with terror when I saw that it 
had actually moved. The leg was thrown further 
forward, and the shield had dropped towards the 
knees, exhibiting what had been previously con- 
cealed, — a rugged and unexpectedly aged appear- 
ance of face, partially covered with curling gray 
beard. The face was bronzed, indeed, — yet of a 
dilferent color from the rest of the body. And 
while I looked on with an indefinable apprehension 
of something, 1 could not for the moment even 
attempt to explain, the figure rolled its head slightly 
towards one side, the eyes opened with a tremulous 
movement, like that of a person exposed to sudden 
light, — and there came the convulsive quiver of a 
long-drawn breath ! 

“ Merciful heavens !” I said, “ it is really a living 
man !” And resting my wife in convenient position 
upon the bank, I hastened to the relief of the stran- 
ger. I took him in my grasp, placed my hand 
beneath his head, and so gradually raised him into a 
sitting posture. To this he submitted without resist- 
ance, appearing, for the moment, like one who had 
not sufficient perception to comprehend anything 
that might be done with hin^^ But in a few min- 
utes, his eyes becoming more accustomed to the 
strong sunlight, remained open with less strained 
aspect; a light of new intelligence — the birth of a 
living soul, as it were — began to glow in them. 


16 


Hannibal's Man. 


changing their lack-lustre appearance into an ani- 
mated sparkle of inner perception; he breathed 
tremulously once or twice again; then drew up one 
leg in more easy attitude between his extended 
hands, and gazed inquiringly at me. 

“ Who are you ?” I demanded, with little hope, 
however, of being understood. And in this opinion I 
w as correct, for he merely gazed upon me with puzzled 
expression, left his eyes to rove up and down my 
dress with something of a dawning smile, and answer- 
ed me in certain uncouth sounds, which were as in- 
comprehensible to me as mine had doubtless been to 
him. Meanwhile, Ursula, having somewhat recov- 
ered from her first fright, arose and approached us, 
her curiosity apparently overpowering any remains 
of fear. 

“ I see it all now, Ursula,” I said to her, anxious not 
merely to give to the facts that sensible explanation 
which would remove from them all suspicion of the 
supernatural, but also not unwilling once more to 
exhibit my capacity to instruct. “ I see it all. He 
is merely a man, like myself, — and not a statue.” 

“ And he has come — ” 

“ Who knows from where or how long ago ? But 
that he is a living man, how can we doubt? You 
have never heard, perhaps, how that certain animals 
have been brought to life again, after long exclusion 
from the air. Or how that there are fishes that may 
be frozen, and, after months, thawed out alive. What 
is that secret power of retention of existence, which 
belongs to some brutes and seems forbidden to man- 
kind ? Or is there really any such power that we do 


H ANNIBALES Man. 


17 


not have as well as the brutes, — being, as yet, merely 
ignorant of its proper application ? Some persons 
have conjectured the latter, indeed ; and have long 
wearied their brains in efforts to solve the enio-ma 

O 

and apply to the human race those principles which 
preserve the brutes. Once or twice it has been 
believed that the secret was really discovered ; but 
yet the result could not be tested, for want of some 
one sufficiently confident or enthusiastic to allow of 
the « experiment being tried upon his own person.” 

“ And you believe that here — ” 

“ Here, Ursula,” I continued, delighted to find that 
she had so readily grasped the idea, “ here, it seems to 
me, that nature has at last taken the experiment into 
her own hands, and, by what we would call an acci- 
dent, has fulfilled all the necessary conditions for the 
continued suspension of the existence of a human 
being. At some far distant time, this man must 
have been overwhelmed near the mountain-top in a 
sudden fall of avalanche, — the wreaths of snow grad- 
ually thereafter turning into ice and so begirting 
him as to retain his vitality in suspense, and thereby 
hinder corruption. He has formed a portion of the 
Glacier for many centuries, perhaps ; — and now, at 
the melting of the ice, near the mountain base, he is 
at last released alive, for our edification and instruc- 
tion. Truly, he may yet prove of more value than 
many mere statues of bronze or marble.” 

Meanwhile, the man, gaining confidence in his 
powers during those few moments, had slowly 
gathered his forces together and now raised himself 
into a standing position. Tottering weakly, at first, 
2 * 


18 


Hannibal’s Man. 


indeed ; but soon recovering more of his strength, 
so that, with all his ripeness of age, he was able to 
assume something of an erect and self-possessed 
posture, as of a soldier on guard. Little by little, 
and yet with such steady gradation that I could per- 
ceptibly watch its progress, full restoration to what 
must have been his former state came upon him. 
Some hitherto latent natural heat of the body 
evolved itself ; and, in a moment, the moisture of 
his scanty dress — that unavoidable moisture with 
which his long detention in the ice must have 
imbued him — began to pass off in visible steam, 
and soon he stood dry and comfortable as though 
raised from flowery bank. The flrst pallor of his 
complexion, tinged with livid green, faded away, 
giving place to as ruddy a glow of health as old age 
can ever expect to exhibit, and evidently his blood 
commenced a new circulation after its long stagna- 
tion. Momentarily his eye grew brightei* and more 
earnest in its intensity. I could not help marveling 
at the change. A few moments before, — and though 
recognizable as a human being, — he had lain at my 
feet, imbued with all the repulsive attributes of a 
corpse. Now he stood a well formed man, as 
athletic in appearance as might be consonant with 
wrinkles and gray hairs, — instinct with health and 
ambition, — animated with a certain pleasing dignity 
of manner which could not fail to impress me with 
a consciousness of what he might have been in the 
long past days of youth or even middle age. 

“ Come,” I now merely said ; and taking him by 
the arm, I led him away, while Ursula walked at 


Hannibal's Man. 


19 


bis other side, ready to give him her support, as well, 
if his so recently recovered strength should chance 
to give way. But that there was no danger of this, 
however, I could soon observe. He had recovered 
his forces not readily again to part with them. In 
silence he suffered himself to be conducted away, 
evidently mystified with the singularity of his situ- 
ation, but not in the least realizing his true condition, 
nor where he had been brought to life, nor, at the 
moment, able to reconcile the prese;it scenes with 
the cloudy fOrrent of past recollections sweeping 
through his bewildered brain. Most likely his latest 
memories must have been about matters that seemed 
not many hours old. How, then, — he must have 
speculated, — did he come hither and among persons 
so strangely clothed? I could see with what con- 
fused curiosity he glanced at the dress of Ursula 
and myself; a curiosity which was not at all dimin- 
ished as he surveyed, on reaching home, the archi- 
tecture of our cabin, as well as the furniture and 
implements within. 

And there at last he sleeps, — lying across my 
hearth, in curled up posture like a dog. I look down 
upon his outstretched arm still grasping his shield, 
his other hand wildly tossing to and fro, in the agi- 
tation of his broken slumber, — I listen to his loud 
breathing, — and I watch the flickering flrelight play 
upon his wrinkled face and tangled gray locks. 
And again and again I ask myself who he may be ! 
Of what nation and of what distant age? And 
what must have been the dire extremity of that na- 
tion, that for its defence, even old age must thus 


20 


Hannibal^ s Man. 


have been summoned to the camp and forced to 
bear the sword and buckler ? 



We have given food and shelter to the stranger, 
and now for many weeks he has been abiding with 
us. At first I supposed that he would have taken 
early opportunity to depart, as escaping from im- 
agined captivity ; but such was not the case. He 
seemed, indeed, rather indisposed to suffer me to go 
out of his sight, as though deeming himself lost 
without me. Whether his long dormant system 
needed repose of another kind, or whether he has 
been uncertain whither he could betake himself if 
he fled, I do not know. But for many days at a 
time he has remained in a listless, indolent state, sit- 
ting in his armor at my cabin door, — with some- 
thing of the same indifference for the future with 
which an Indian, surfeited with the fruits of the 
chase, will lie around his wigwam ; and if I move 
away upon any exploration of the neighborhood, I 
find him tagging at my heels like a dog, apparently 
uneasy in mind until he sees me safely home again. 

Little by little 1 have made my own discoveries 
about him. And almost from the very first, I have 
ascertained my error regarding his age. For after 
all he is not an old man, tottering in enforced 
military servitude, to assist the waning features of 
an imperiled state. Those earliest appearances of 
decrepitude were nothing more than the natural 
results of long confinement from the light and air ; 


Hannibal’s Man. 


21 


and under the new conditions in which he is placed, 
they have passed away almost like a morning mist. 
At first, with the infiuence of food and warmth, the 
gray locks seemed to gain life, and rapidly changed 
to a dark, rich brown. Then the complexion 
softened into the soft hue of youth, and little by 
little each ugly wrinkle cleared away. After that 
the form grew more erect, gaining at least three or 
four inches in height. And so, step by step, the 
seemingly old man has grown young, and in less 
than a fortnight, has recovered all his natural 
beauty and -elasticity, and stands disclosed to us a 
glorious creature, strong, athletic and alert, with 
the air and manner of a god, every limb moulded 
with more than artistic excellence, the face radiant 
with intelligence, the whole creature instinct with 
almost every quality of physical perfection that har- 
moniously can adorn manhood. 

Noticing this change, I have made other discov- 
eries concerning him. And commencing at the first 
with matters of mere habit and costume, I have 
noticed that the shield, which still as by force of 
custom he bears around with him, is not of iron, as 
I had at first supposed, but is of stiffened layers of 
bull’s hide, bound together with metal rivets. There 
are strange characters embossed upon it, however, 
defying my interpretation ; and the crest of his 
helmet together with the projections of his breast- 
plate, bear unknown figures by way of ornamenta- 
tion. Once I have seen him prostrated in devotional 
attitude before the rising sun. Who, indeed, — I 
then again for the hundreth time said, — can be this 


22 


Hannibal^ s Man. 


creature, strangely raised into life from his icy tomb ? 
In regard to this, however, I have not been long 
in gaining some knowledge. I cannot, as yet, it is 
true, decipher the inscriptions upon shield or hel- 
met, and for a time his language seemed merely a 
series of uncouth articulations ; nor could I detect 
the slightest recognizable sound in the utterances, 
which, at certain moments, he instinctively poured 
forth. But I have been, in past years, a diligent 
student in languages, giving myself up to the philo- 
sophy of philology and fond of tracing up modern 
sounds into their Sanscrit and Shemitic roots ; and 
thus it chanced that a few days ago I fancied that 
in a random utterance of this strange creature, I 
detected a familiar articulation. Upon this, I grew 
more intent, and with similar utterances of my own, 
encouraged him to speak. Little by little I managed 
to connect his articulation with ancient roots, the 
one running into the other and then back again so as 
to form an almost incomprehensible maze, yet fraught 
with certain suggestions of method. And this very 
morning it has happened that a single expression 
of his has let into my mind a flood of light. All 
the loose ends of uncertainty have now gathered 
themselves into place, making a woven web of con- 
sistency. And, with a thrill of joy I have discov- 
ered that, by using simple expressions, I am able to 
converse with him in his OAvn language. 

“Who are you?” of course, was my first inquiry 

“ I am one of Hannibal’s men,” he answered. “We 
are on our way across these mountains to attack the 
Romans.” 


Hannibal's Man. * 


28 


“And how came you here ? ” I continued. 

“That is what I scarcely know,” he responded. 
“ We left Carthage a few months ago, and went to 
Hispania. And when, by force of arms, we had occu- 
pied that country, we set out across the mountain^ 
to attack Rome. On the i-oute I must have fallen 
into the snow, and been detained. But where, now, 
is the army ? And where is Plannibal ? ” 

“The army is gone, — all dead and gone, — and 
Hannibal as well,” I answered. “ You think that 
your mischance happened a few days past, do you 
not ? Know, on the contrary, that it is more than 
twenty centuries ago.” 

“And what, then, is a century ? ” 

“ That is to say, over twenty hundred years ago,” 
I explained. 

“ Do you think me a fool, to tell me such a story 
as that ?” he exclaimed, with indignation. And for 
the moment, he would listen to no word further 
from me, but resolutely and speechlessly turned 
his back. And I could see that, with the revival of 
new thoughts, his glance passed inquiringly and long- 
ingly across the crest of that Alpine range, as though 
he might yet, in some far off point, behold a section 
of the long vanished cohorts winding its way across 
some open space. 

Meanwhile, I have one duty to perform, and that 
is, to call the attention of the scientific world to the 
examination of my prize. I have the gift of 
language sufficiently to converse with him, but I 
have not the archaeological ability to make our con- 
versation properly available. There are those alive 


24 


Hannibal's Man. 


who know how to examine him, through me, for the 
determination of important questions of antiquity; 
and 1 feel that I must lose no time in giving them 
the opportunity. 

Will it be believed ? So incredulous and impracti- 
cable is the world, that all my elforts have been of 
no avail. I had thought to confer upon the world 
of science, art and history an inestimable benefit, in 
making it acquainted with my strange guest. But 
though I have written to scientific and antiquarian 
devotees in every direction, my letters have elicited 
no response. Each person has seemed to believe, 
either that I am practicing upon his credulity or that 
I am bereft of my senses. Indeed, in a German 
newspaper that yesterday fell in my way, I read a 
republication of one of my letters, with sarcastic 
comments upon my sanity. There has not been one 
answer to all my appeals ; and instead of the crowds 
of archaeological inquirers whom I had expected to 
see pressing forward to my home, there yet remains 
the almost unbroken solitude, — still, only the Cartha- 
genian soldier, Ursula and myself. 

Therefore, I have concluded to give up my efforts, 
and leave the whole scientific world to that forget- 
fulness which it so richly deserves. Meanwhile, of 
all the three, Ursula, at least, has not been idle. Her 
womanly sympathy has been aroused, and she has 
desired to have the heathen soldier instructed in the 
mysteries of the Christian faith. In vain I have 
proposed to instruct him rather and at the first, in 
those usages and appliances of modern times, which 
for his own comfort, it is most befitting that he should 


HannibaijS Man. 


25 


know. To every such demand upon my part she 
has had some ready answer with which, for the 
moment, to overcome me. Therefore have I yielded 
to her, and day after day have sat before the two, 
interpreting her instructions to him. 

And all this has turned out as I anticipated. To 
her arguments upon the mysteries of our religion, 
he has- exhibited utter inability of comprehension, 
while his attention has sorely wandered. To her 
narration of gospel history, he has manifested 
incredulity rather than want of interest. In no 
respect has he exhibited any serious regard to her 
words, indeed, except where she has spoke about the 
feast and ceremonies belonging to the church. Pos- 
sibly he has found something in them akin to the 
usages of his own religion, thus awakening his mem- 
ories of home. Doubtless, also, youth and vigor, 
accustomed to a life of gayety and pleasure, could 
not well fail to find some excitation of spirit in the 
recapitulations of observances relating to occasional 
admitted abandonments of discipline. Carthage, 
doubtless, had its feast days ; and it is easy for him 
to confound with these, the more serious and well 
tempered festivities of the modern church. 

And amidst all this, there has come to me a new 
reflection, instinct with terrible anxiety. To-day I 
have happened to note, more narrowly than I have 
ever done before, what a very handsome young 
soldier this man of Hannibal chances to be, — how 
well-formed are his features and how gracefully 
poised, his head, — how finely shaped are his limbs, 
and how becomingly his armor sets them off, — how 
3 


26 


HannibaTj s Man. 


he stands in height a head and shoulders over me. 
And gazing stealthily towards my wife, I note how, 
from time to time, she turns her head in his direc- 
tion ; drawn thitherward in unconscious, unsuspect- 
ing admiration of that wonderful physical beauty. 
I know that her heart is faithful to me ; and yet 
I begin to think that the time might easily come, in 
the which her admiration could unwittingly change 
to love and I lose all. I have lived for months in 
this desert solitude, so repugnant to me, only that I 
may let her see no other man than myself, and 
thereby be released from any chance of suffering 
through ungenerous comparison. Must all my pre- 
cautions now be set at naught by the presence of this 
warlike young heathen Adonis ? Truly I must get 
rid of him as soon as possible. 



It is accomplished ; and to my mingled gratifica- 
tion and surprise, more easily than I had anticipated. 

“Why do you linger here?” I said to him this 
morning. “ Have you no wdsh to go back to the 
land of your birth, — to your own native Carthage ? 
Though you may not see it in all respects as you left 
it, will it not be something to see it at all and in 
any condition whatsoever ? ” 

“You say well,” he answered, starting up, as Avitli 
the impulse of an entire new thought. “ I will go 
thither at once. Only put me in the way of it.” 

Thereupon I have marked out his route for him 
and told to what ports he must hie, and how thence 


H ANNIBALES Man. 


27 


he could cross over to the opposite shore of Africa. 
And fearing, lest through the singularity of his cos- 
tume, he may be detained ere he is well on his way, 
I have persuaded him to lay aside his armor, and 
clothe himself in the fashion of the day. To this 
eifect, I have put him into a cast off suit of my 
own, judiciously altered by Ursula ; and so have 
bidden him good-by and set him off upon his jour- 
ney. And now, at last, surely I am ridden of him. 
For I can never even dream that he will be able to 
thread the mp.zes of unknown lands expertly enough 
to find his way back again ; even if, as is very 
unlikely, he escapes being knocked upon the head, 
by reason of some unwitting trespass upon the 
rights of others. 



Trouble upon trouble ! He has been gone only 
two months; and this day, upon returning from a 
stroll, to my amazement I beheld him sitting con- 
templative at my cabin door. In disgust of modern 
usage, he had resumed his antique dress and armor, 
and now looked more gloriously beautiful than ever. 

“Ha! Can it be?” I exclaimed, and in no hospi- 
table tone. 

“ Listen,” he said. “ I went to Carthage, or what 
once was such. I crossed to Africa in some sort of 
a. ship, worked by a power to which three banks of 
galley slaves with oars would be as nothing. I stood 
at last, not within Carthage, but only where it had 
been. There were merely a few sewer arches and 


28 


Hannibal* s Man. 


a broken column or two. Why did you not tell me 
in advance that this was to be all ? Where are my 
family, ray altars, and my gods? Where is the 
army, and where is great Hannibal himself ? I begin 
to believe that I may, indeed, have slept beneath 
the snow-drifts a little longer than I had supposed. 
Only a stone or two of the magnificent city now 
left! and they tell me that the Roman dogs whom 
we so often slew in heaps, have made all that 
ruin ! ” 

“True, it is the Roman dogs that have done it,” I 
responded, eagerly following out the new train of 
thought. “ Why, then, do you not take your revenge 
in seeing how mercilessly they have been punished 
in return ? Go now, therefore, to Rome itself, and 
observe how terribly the barbarians have overrun 
and devastated it.” 

“ Yes, I will do that,” he exclaimed, his eyes kind- 
ling at the revengeful suggestion. “ That sight will 
give comfort to my heart ! I will go at once and 
feast upon Rome’s misery ! There shall not be an 
hour’s delay! ” 

Therefore, once more he has stripped himself of 
his armor and assumed the less noticeable costume 
with which I had furnished him. Once more I have 
bidden him God speed, with the secret hope that he 
may be so speeded as never to return. 

“ And yet,” I mutter to myself with secret feeling 
of foreboding, “ if such is to be the sequel, why is it 
that the bells of the convent chapel are tolling 
a saddened chime, as though there were misfortune 
still lurking in the air ? If my persecutor is really 


Hannibal's Man. 


29 


never destined to return, would not the bells leap 
up and down in very cadence ? ” 

Saying all this, it is not exactly with belief in Ur- 
sula’s superstition about the bells. But still, as she 
there sits, oppressed with the melancholy chiming, 
her hands pressed over her eyes, in spite of my better 
judgment, I cannot help somewhat sympathizing in 
her mood, and thinking that after all, perhaps, there 
may be some method in the madness. Did not the 
bells ring out a requiem upon that unlucky day when 
first I discovered this terrible disturber of my peace 
lying in semblance of a senseless log ? Throughout 
the coming months have the bells ever sounded one 
pleasant note for us, and all the while has not ill- 
fortune constantly gathered nearer? Is this to last 
forever, and will the bells never again pour forth 
one merry peal to cheer us ? 



Now to God be all . Yet let me not too pre- 

maturely hurry to the end ; lest in my haste, forget- 
ting anything now, my recollection may hereafter 
go astray. 

Last night was Christmas eve. We had prepared 
our cabin for the festive occasion after the manner 
of my German home. I had brought greens from 
ttie nearest forest, and Ursula and myself had 
twined them into wreaths, with which we hung our 
walls, while in the center of the room, after the 
manner of a chandelier, swung a great clump of 
larch. As the evening drew on, Ursula had re- 


30 


Hannibal’s Man. 


tired to rest, promising herself that she would arise 
at earliest dawn and greet the sunrise of Christmas 
day at the convent-chapel altar. Thereby I was 
left for the while alone ; and sat before the great 
fire of blazing, crackling logs, nodding over a favor- 
ite classic, and wishing that I, too, had the resolution 
to retire. 

All at once I heard a heavy footstep crunching 
upon the trodden snow outside, — then it ceased and 
there came a sudden fumbling with the latch. A 
moment more, and the door flew open and I saw the 
Carthagenian standing outside. Without a word 
he strode within, and seizing a chair brought it down 
with a violent crash at the other side of the fire- 
place, and sullenly seated himself. 

“Again returned!” I cried, still more discour- 
teously than I had spoken at his previous reappear- 
ance. “ What ill wind ” 

“It is that you have deceived me,” he retorted. 
“Did you not assure me that I would have my 
revenge in seeing Rome in ruins ? ” 

“ And is it not so ?” 

“ Here a ruin and there a ruin ; — but what is that 
compared with the utter devastation of my own 
city ? Do I not, in spite of it, find a city to which 
the whole world presses forward with abject rever- 
ence ? Do I not find families there existing, which, 
with more or less certainty, profess to be the descend- 
ants of the very race that made desolation of my 
own? Do I not there see, almost uninjured, the 
tomb of the very man who led his hosts against us ? 
Are not the annals still remaining, which show the 


Hannibal^ s Man. 


31 


full story of our misfortune and disgrace ? Am I 
to be satisfied, therefore, with the crumbling of a 
circus or the rending apart of a temple or two? 
What revenge is there in all that, indeed ? Yes, you 
have deceived me ! ” 

“ I offered you the best revenge I could,” was my 
retort. “ What better could Ido?” 

“ And is it so, that such is the best thing the 
world can give me?” he responded. “Then do I 
want nothing more from the world. I will abstain 
from it altogether. In future, this quiet spot shall 
be enough for me.” 

“ What mean you ? ” I cried, struck with a horri- 
ble foreboding. “ You intend ” 

“ I intend here to rest. Why should I go further 
into a world that brings to me merely scenes of 
misery and discomfort ? Now I know that my race 
and city, — that the army and great Hannibal him- 
self — are all gone, even as you first told me. Here, 
then, will I remain, content to ask no other place.” 

There was then silence for a few moments. He 
gazed moodily into the fire, — I. sat pretending to 
look upon my book, but found the letters swimming 
before me, as I reviewed the terrible fact that this 
man was about to fasten himself upon my whole 
life like a hideous incubus. Suddenly he started, 
raised his head and drawing off from his finger a 
large richly chased gold ring, placed it upon the 
open page before me. 

“Listen!” he cried. “She — ” and he nodded 
significantly towards the other room, “ has tried to 
teach me to believe in your gods. I believe in them 


32 


Hannibal’ s Man. 


not, — my own are sufficient for me. But yet, there 
are certain customs of your faith which are not all 
bad. To-night, I am told, is the night when in 
memory of the birth of one of your gods, men are 
wont to make gifts to each other. It is a good cus- 
tom. So, there ! Take that ring, therefore, for your 
own. I got it with a Hispanian princess. I took the 
princess, also, but I gave her away to my friend. 
The ring only did I keep, and now it is yours.” 

“And what — ” I said. 

“ What shall you give me in return ? ” he cried. 
“ What else, indeed, should you give me other than 
herself?” And again he pointed significantly 
towards the door of the other room. “ I cannot live 
altogether alone, and she pleases me. Long enough 
already have you had her ; and I know that she will 
soon learn to love my youth and manhood the best.” 

“ And do you think that I will consent to ” 

“ Dog ! ” he cried, ferociously starting up. “ Dog 
of Roman descent, it may be ! Dare you object ? 
Do you think we of Carthage ravaged Hispania 
and crossed these mountains to be thwarted in what- 
ever we desire ? Are we not the conquerors ? 
Oppose me, and I will crush your poor limbs together 
at a single blow ! ” 

I listened to him with horror. My blood curdled 
within me. There was no doubt that, if it came to 
force, he could do as he threatened and crush me 
like an egg-shell. Nor could I protect my rights by 
appealing to his reason or to the laws. The latter 
were too far off from me, in my isolation, — the for- 
mer was not susceptible of guidance, in his present 


Hannibal^s Man. 


33 


distorted state of mental vision. Fori could see 
that he mingled the past with the present in such 
blinded shape as not to realize that the right as well 
as the might was not with him. He forgot, or 
rather could not comprehend, how many centuries 
had elapsed since the army had crossed the Alps 
in conquering array. Though all were now dust, — 
mere memories of a long-buried past, — to him 
there was remaining all the glory of a dominant 
race, — gilding his armor 'and making his recollec- 
tions glow with pictures as of yesterday. In his 
sight I was no other than one of a subjected people, 
rightfully given up to pillage ; — and to him would 
Ursula appertain as spoil wrested from a slavish 
race. 

“ Let us talk this ovei^’ I gasped forth at length, 
perceiving the necessity of temporizing with him. 

You say well that this Christmas time is the period 
for exchanging gifts. But the exchange should 
be more equal than what you propose. Stay ! we 
will talk the matter over at our leisure with a bottle 
of Falernian. You must before this have heard 
our Roman drink well-spoken of. And now, what 
more have you to offer for her ? ” 

Gladly I saw that he was not disposed to be 
ungenerously exacting ; and, for the sake of peace 
between us, would come to fair terms, even at some 
fancied sacrifice to himself. Therefore we seated 
ourselves at different sides of the table, and com- 
menced what was with me a deceptive negotiation. 
Under pretense of the Falernian, I brought out a 
bottle of wine, — strong and insidious, — such as he 


34 


Hannibal’s Man. 


could never have drank of before ; and filling up his 
glass, I bade him propose his terms. He drank, and 
I could see the liquid mount with irresistible effect, 
into his eyes. He would give for Ursula his brace- 
let, — nay, he no longer had that, having gambled it 
away during the Hispanian campaign, — but he would 
give his helmet and his shield, — if those were not 
enough, he knew where, before leaving Hispania, he 
had buried a cup full of coin, and he would take me 
to the spot, — he would give up for her, if necessary, 
his gods themselves. And so, profusely babbling 
forth his vain offers, at last his stupefied head sank 
slowly upon the table, and thence he gently slid 
upon the floor, and there at full length, slept. 

Then, — restraining the momentary impulse to 
brain him as he lay, and thus, with one felonious 
blow, rid myself forever of the torment of his per- 
secutions, — I merely threw a long cloth over him to 
hide him from my sight, and opening the door that 
led into our chamber, called out to Ursula. 

“ Arouse yourself, Ursula,” I said. “ Dress in all 
haste and let us depart from here. There is work 
before us ^nd it must not be delayed.” 

“And whither ” 

“ Ask me not now. At some other time I will tell 
you. For the present, give little rein to your 
thoughts, and hasten.” 

In silence and in full trust that at the proper time 
I would reveal my meaning and so ease her wonder- 
ment, Ursula arose, and unhesitatingly prepared to 
obey me. A few moments, and all being ready, we 
departed. I led her quickly through the outer room. 


Hannibal's Man. 


35 


— so quick that by the darkened light she could not 
see the form of the slumbering Carthagenian beneath 
the extended cloth. And so we hurried forth, and I 
turned the key in the lock, believing that I was leav- 
ing the cabin forever. What mattered it, after all, 
as long as thereby I might find some other nook of 
peace upon the fuithfer side of the mountain, to 
which the barbarian could not track us ? Whatever 
of worldly goods I here lost, could I not elsewhere 
replace? Only let me ^aiow make timely fiight 
before the foe had a chance to awaken. 

So long had I been sitting up into the small hours 
of the night, before the Cathagenian had entered, 
and so protracted had been our subsequent negotia- 
tion, that it was now near three o’clock in the morn- 
ing. The air was cool and crisp, yet not too cold. 
The snow was firm under foot, and altogether there 
was no bar to speedy progress. Within an hour or 
two silently threading the mountain passes, we suc- 
ceeded in putting so great a distance between the 
barbarian and ourselves, that I feared not to tarry 
for a few moments’ rest at a roadside hostelry. This 
rest we gradually prolonged until it was near morning 
before we set out again. Then once more we con- 
tinued our route, gradually winding further up the 
mountain, while each moment with greater confidence 
I assured myself of safety. But as the stars paled out 
of the steel-gray sky and the dawn began to appear, 
I saw far down in the valley, and following upon 
our track, a single dark speck. I knew that it must 
be the Carthagenian, too soon awakened and become 
cognizant of our flight; and anon I perceived, by the 


86 


Hannibal’s Man 


wild exultant flourish of his shield, that he had de- 
tected our flgures in bold relief against the white 
snow, and was animating himself to more vigorous 
pursuit. But I said nothing to Ursula about what I 
had seen, and merely pressed on, more rapidly, if 
possible, than before. 

Soon as we ascended a slt)pe of the mountain, I 
could see that our pursuer had already traversed half 
the remaining distance between us, and my heart 
grew sick with fear. The road we were traveling 
led to a village, gaining which, I might feel sure of 
protection; but this village was still many miles 
away, with no intervening cabins; and it was certain 
that before reaching safety, the evening would be 
upon us. There was only one hope of relief; and 
that consisted in the chance of losing ourselves from 
observation in some quiet by-path. This I now re- 
solved upon attempting. 

Between the rocks at my left hand was a narrow 
path which, leaving the main road, now passed from 
one mountain slope to the other, crossing, in its pro- 
gress, the great Glacier. Down this we sped, until 
we stood upon the Glacier itself, half way to its 
source. Looking back, I could see that our pursuer 
had not been deceived by my divergence from the 
main road, but had himself turned aside, and was 
still vigorously following us. My heart stood al- 
most paralyzed, for, now, alas ! there was no further 
way of retreat. The only hope was to press on as 
before and trust to chance. 

Differing from what it was below, the Glacier 
here was rough and broken, the surface at times 


Hannibal's Man. 


37 


raised into unsightly hillocks of ice and snow, amidst 
which the path wound deviously, here and there, at 
only a few feet distance, hidden altogether from 
sight. Slowly we picked our way ; and half across 
we found that there had opened a crack or crevasse 
in the surface of the ice, about seven or eight feet 
broad and of unfathomable depth. At the other 
side, the path abruptly terminated, and, owing to 
some alteration in the mountain surface, appeared 
to be altogether lost. Still I pressed on, however, 
anxious for the moment only to reach the other 
side of the crevasse. A loose log lay near, once 
doubtless embedded in the ice. This log I now 
placed across the gap, — cautiously we assisted each 
other over to the other side, — and there resting, 
there was nothing left for me to do but, as calmly 
as possible, to await the inevitable issue. 

Looking around I noticed that the dawn had al- 
ready brightened almost into full daylight, though 
as yet the sun had not risen. Here and there, how- 
ever, some of the tallest peaks were already gilded 
with its rays, and swiftly the glorious sheen of light 
was descending along the mountain sides toward the 
valley below. In the East the sky was one sea of 
gold and purple clouds, showing that the sun itself 
was now close at hand, rapidly climbing into sight 
and at any moment might appear. Lighter and 
lighter at each succeeding instant now perceptibly 
grew the shaded valley. I could easily mark the 
distant village where for us there would have been 
safety. At one side and seemingly almost at our 


4 


38 


Hannibal^s Man. 


feet stood the little hostelry where we had passed 
part of the night, — beyond, our own deserted home. 
The whole broad panorama was gorgeous with 
natural beauty. Even I, though so accustomed to it 
and withal so unappreciative, might have delighted 
in it, but for one terrible blemish. This was the dark 
spot which all the while, and as yet unperceived by 
Ursula, was following us as relentlessly as a sleuth 
hound along the path which we had just traversed; 
— now seemingly at rest, now disappearing entirely 
from sight behind one of the larger hummocks of 
ice, — then again issuing into view and always nearer 
than before ! 

Suddenly, Ursula, lifting her eyes to mine and 
taking me by the hand, broke her long imposed 
silence. 

“ Christmas morning at last,” she said. “ And 
now I know why you have brought me hither. It 
was kindly intended, though it has failed of its pur- 
pose, and therefore I thank you for it.” 

“And that purpose — ” 

“It was — you must not deny it — it was to do 
this time that which I have so often asked of you — 
to attend with me at the early mass in the convent- 
chapel. But unaccustomed to the path, you have 
missed the way. See ! yonder stands the chapel, 
not so very far away, but that, in the gathering day- 
light we can mark nearly every window, every angle 
of the roof, can even count the five little bells that 
hang so motionless in the gable-turret. And look 
again ! Some of the neighboring villagers are 
already climbing the ascent to give the mass their 


Hannibal’s Man. 


39 


presence. Too late for us, though, now, I think. 
We should have taken the right-hand path.” 

“ Too late, indeed !” I said, with inward groan, as 
I watched the pursuer still nearer than before. 

“ But that matters little, after all. For truly, the 
Vespers may make amends, and there is no better 
place than this, with only the grand presence of 
God’s nature around us, in which to tell you all that 
I have so long treasured up to say. I have so 
ardently waited for this Christmas morning; and 
now that it has come, I hardly know how or where 
to begin.” 

“ Speak out freely from your first thought, dear 
Ursula,” I answered ; and my heart sank lower than 
ever, as I wondered whether she was about to confess 
to me, as a secret that could not longer be withheld, 
her passion for the Carthagenian. 

“ It is this, then,” she said. “ Months ago — but 
where exactly it began, I cannot tell — I felt that, 
for your great love for me, you were giving up all 
the promise of your future life. I saw it in your 
abstracted moods when you would seem to pierce 
through the mountain sides and gaze again, in 
imagination, upon your own distant home ; — I 
knew it from your mutterings in your sleep. Then 
I perceived that your heart was not in these scenes 
about us, — that you would have loved to return to 
your own city, and would have done so, but for one 
thing.” 

“ And that one thing, dear Ursula ?” I responded, ‘ 
dreading to learn how nearly she might have probed 
to the bottom of my suspicious thoughts. 


40 


HannibatjS Man. 


“ Why, what indeed could that one thing be, 
except that by reason of your love for me, you would 
not take me from these scenes which you thought I 
could best enjoy, having been brought up among 
them ! What, indeed, but that, for my sake, you 
resolved to school yourself to love these mountains 
and forget, as much as possible, your own much 
dearer home? But all the while, had I no love for 
you, that I should make no sacrifice in return ? 
Therefore it was in my mind to tell you how cheer- 
fully I will depart from here, and go with you 
whithersoever you would. And so I should have 
told you many months ago, but for the coming of 
this Carthagenian.” 

“ Ah ! The Carthagenian, indeed ! ” 

“ Then I delayed ; for I saw that in the occupation 
of fathoming the mystery of his appearance and his- 
tory, you needed no other pursuit to make you 
happy. And then, too, there came upon me the selfish 
desire to please myself as little in hurrying him, if 
possible, into the circle ctf our own dear Church. 
Therefore, to that intent, I toiled ; finding at first a 
pleasure in it, — then a weariness which only my 
sense of duty could help me to support, — then — ” 
“ But why a weariness, Ursula ? ” I could not 
resist exclaiming. ‘‘ Would not the task be a pleas- 
ant one, always, with so fair a pupil ? ” 

“ Fair, do you say ? Yes, now that you recall it, 
he was fair to some extent, though at the time I 
never thought about it. Strong and well formed, 
indeed, — yet for all that, it must be said, with little 
soul and intelligence in his face. Possibly, were I 


Hannibal’s Man. 


41 


like the maidens of this valley, not taught as I have 
been by union with yourself to put my affections 
upon those cultured graces that are higher than any 
mere attractions of the physical frame, I might have 
learned to admire that barbarian youth ; — but not 
now — not now. None but yourself I think can ever 
now hold my admiration, much less my love.” 

Hearing this, I drew a long breath and could have 
even slain myself for the late cruel suspicions of my 
heart. To atone for all must be the business of my 
future life. And yet, what future life could be des- 
tined for me, with that hated pursuer every moment 
drawing closer? 

“And so - at last,” she continued, “my probation 
came to an end as the Carthagenian left us, never 
again, I hope, to return. And when he departed, I 
would then have told you all, but that it was within 
a month of this, blessed Christmas, and so I thought 
that I would wait. For thus I reasoned. I have 
come to you poor and desolate. This is the season 
for giving gifts ; but what material gift have I that 
I can confer upon you ? And then I said that it was 
in my power, after all, to give you what you might 
value far more than anything else, — your freedom 
from this life that now so heavily weighs you down, 
the resumption of those olden pursuits in which your 
heart must be so much interested. Take them, dear 
husband, upon this Christmas morning, and with 
whatever rich treasures of my love I can pour out 
in words, this gift of a newer and more suitable life 
for yourself. I shall never repine at leaving the 
mountains. Let us depart at once unto your own 
4 * 


42 


IfAjmiBAL’s^ Man. 


native city. There, as well as here, I shall bask in 
the sunshine of your love ; and where your love is, 
there will always be my most happy feeling of 
home.” 

“ Is it a dream ? ” I said, for the moment over- 
powered by emotion ; forgetting even the present 
peril we were in, and thinking only to gaze enrap- 
tured upon her face, so radiant with the divine luster 
of love and truth, and to wonder that I had been 
so blinded hitherto as not to read aright this faithful 
heart. And how blinded had 1 been^ indeed, not to 
have recognized the certainty that, in the end, even 
my trials would result in good ! For even at that 
instant of supreme joy and forgetfulness of peril, I 
saw how truly the presence of the Carthagenian him- 
self had served its friendly purpose. Apart from 
him, indeed, Ursula would none the less have made 
to me, upon this Christmas morning, that priceless 
gift of self-sacrifice and love. And yet, apart from 
the memory of him, how could I, in accepting the 
gift, so completely have crushed out forever all the 
foolish jealousies of my heart? Still, but for him, 
there might have come, in the newer sphere of action, 
something of the olden dread of other admirations 
stealing her love away from me. But now that this 
glorious statuesque beauty thus freshly arisen as 
from another world had failed to kindle in her heart 
one response or even recognition of its power to 
charm, how could I ever doubt again ? 

“ Is it a dream ? ” I therefore repeated. “ Or am 
I indeed awake, and is this a sweet reality? Come 
to my arms, dearest Ursula ; and upon this blessed 


Hannibal's Man. 


43 


Christmas morning, let me in turn confess to 
you — ” 

Yet ere I could speak further in acknowledgment 
of my fault, and tell the hitter story of my late dis- 
trust, I was recalled, as by a flash, to the perception 
of our present danger ; for glancing up, I saw our 
dreaded pursuer now clambering over the rugged 
path not fifty feet away. Ursula, also, then saw him, 
and in helpless terror sank slowly from my arms. 

“Yes — upon your knees now he it!” I cried, 
“ and there pour forth such prayers for our deliver- 
ance as never yet you have learned to utter ! ” 

And as I spoke, the enemy came still nearer, until 
he stood upon the further side of the chasm and 
faced me. I could see his features aglow with 
demoniac delight at having finally driven us to a 
stand. More than ever, too, did he now seem 
arrayed with glorious beauty of form, as light and 
athletic in shield and helmet, he there confronted 
me. Of that stately beauty, indeed, I could no 
longer hold one jealous feeling; but what hope of 
rescue could I have from that fierce determination 
towards wrong which glared so savagely in every 
feature ? I saw Ursula bowed at my feet in prayer, 
her face turned with reverential instinct towards 
the convent chapel ; but how could prayers or chapel 
aid us there ? As for myself, with one vigorous 
motion of the foot, I hurled the log upon which we 
had crossed, deep down into the crevasse ; but how 
could this obstruct one who, with overbearing leap 
across the chasm, could bear down my feeble frame 
before Jiim, as if it were a reed ? 


44 


Hannibal^ s Man. 


“ Dog of a mountaineer ! ” he said. “ Will you 
surrender her to me ? Or must I come thither and 
wring your hare neck before seizing her for my 
own ! ” 

“ Barbarian whelp ! ” with violence, I retorted, 
mustering all of my remaining resolution in support 
of that last torrent of defiance. “ If you think that 
she should be yours, then come across and take her.” 

He foamed at the mouth with rage at being thus 
addressed ; and, for a moment, gazed around for 
some means of crossing the icy chasm. Finding 
none, he placed his shield and helmet upon the ice, 
retired a few paces, the better to make his leap, and 
then, like the wind bounded forward. 

J ust at that instant, the rising sun peeped above 
the mountain, and all the bells of the little chapel 
rang out their salutation to the new born Christ- 
mas. Was it merely some sudden current of air 
which carried the sound towards us ? And was' it a 
mere chance that all the bells now so loudly broke 
forth together ? Or, on the other hand, has it been 
mysteriously so ordered for our protection ? I can- 
not tell, indeed. I only know that though I had 
often heard the bells in their most lusty peal, I had 
never listened to them as now. Not one bell, 
merely — not even two or three ; but the whole five 
bursting out with instant, hurried, tumultuous clash ! 
N ot coming to our hearing as from any distance ; 
but in one loud, discordant clanging peal breaking 
in upon our senses, seemingly at our very ears with 
deafening resonance — almost overwhelming us with 
the sudden concussion of the metallic blast ! Even 


Hannibal's Man. 


45 


in our instant of peril, it struck upon Ursula and 
myself as with vital, material force — bearing us 
back helpless with the torrent of sound ! And it 
came upon our enemy like an avenging stroke at the 
very critical poise of his onward leap ; so that con- 
fusedly his face turned wildly away, his limbs failed 
in their proper action, and in that supreme moment 
of his need, the full energy of his spring deserted 
him ! 

A moment more — and as I gathered my own disor- 
dered faculties together, I saw that my foe had fallen, 
with his whole body hanging within the crevasse, 
and supported only by his hands convulsively cling- 
ing to the edge. Vigorous as were his writhings, 
there was no hope of extrication. Each instant as 
there he hung, the partially softened ice began to 
break and splinter away beneath his fingers. One 
by one they relaxed. For a second I looked upon 
his face, marked not only with agonized despair, but 
also with baffled hate as he gazed upon me ; and 
above all, I could also note, by the strained back- 
ward rolling of his eyes, that the discordant pealing 
of the bells, in that last moment of A^ain struggling 
for his life, was still overmastering and affrighting 
him. Then his stiffened hands relaxed their 
enfeebled hold, and falling, he passed forever from 
my sight. There was nothing left to tell me that it 
had not been all a dream, except the shield and 
helmet lying motionless at the further side. 

“ Down ! Down once more into your icy tomb !” 
I cried, in an ecstasy of relief ; while the bells, 
changing from their first unearthly clamor now broke 


46 


Hannibal's Man 


into a softly modulated march of triumph. “Lie 
there, once more, for twenty centuries to come ! It 
will not be I, who, at their end, will rescue you from 
your frozen sepulcher and once more warm your 
viper blood into ungrateful action ! ” 



And now, once more and ever, all thanks to God, 
for that great and wondrous deliverance from peril 
upon this blessed day ! And let the bells still ring 
their sympathetic peal of joy, for that upon this 
Christmas morn my heart has had its jealous clouds 
thus swept away and thereby gained that richest 
and most priceless gift of perfect peace and security ! 










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